


Sunday Dinner

by megka



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Bisexual Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Father, Coming Out, Fluff, Little bit of angst, Red Robin, batfam, bi tim drake, experiences of past homophobia, jack drake is not a good father, references pre-52 red robin, tim drake coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megka/pseuds/megka
Summary: Tim Drake has been acting strange for the past couple of months, and Bruce fears something terrible happened while he was dead.Tim is just trying to come out as bi in the wake of a past bad experience.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 20
Kudos: 729





	Sunday Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning that this fic contains mentions of past rejection for coming out as bi. It's not very detailed, but it's present.
> 
> Be kind and stay safe everyone!

The detective Tim Drake, the calculating, confident, 20-steps-ahead Tim Drake, quite ironically, is nowhere to be found. As he stands stiff in front of Bruce’s bedroom door, the teen can barely remember his own name, much less the detailed plan on how exactly he is going to tell his father. As he shifts his weight from the right leg to the left, the same thoughts that have halted Tim time and time again start buzzing around his head. 

_ Bruce is Batman for god’s sake. No way he doesn’t already know!  _

_ He’s never suggested that he knows, though. What does that mean? _

_ Remember last time? _

_ Oh god no, don’t remember last time! _

_ Don’t think about it. Don’t think- _

_ Okay now I’m thinking about it. _

_ Shit, I can’t- _

“Tim?” When had the door opened? “Do you need something?” Bruce’s voice is as proper as ever to Tim, though the boy does not pick up on the slight concern masked in the words. He panics.

“Uh. . . Do I need something?” Tim stutters out, unable to form any other coherent thoughts. Bruce cannot help but twitch the corners of his mouth upwards, amused at his son’s dumbfounded expression. He waits for Tim to gather his thoughts.

“Well I. . . I just wanted to- I suppose I needed to ask you something about- I mean I’m not really  _ asking _ , it’s more of a  _ telling _ thing-”

“Do you want to come inside?” Bruce interrupts calmly, “I have a feeling this isn’t a hallway conversation.”

“Oh uh,” A pink tinge arises on Tim’s cheeks, “You know what? You’re probably busy, I shouldn’t have even bothered you-”

“Or we could go outside if you want. I think some fresh air and vitamin D could do you good.” Bruce steps outside of his room as he speaks, giving another option to his son while at the same time gently assuring him that he wants this conversation to continue. Tim gives a short nod and the pair sets off down the hallway. They walk in silence to the back patio, the teen’s heartbeat getting quicker with each step. Bruce notices this and does his best to create a calm atmosphere, ushering his son outside and closing the glass sliding doors behind them. The rest of the kids were out of the manor for at least the rest of the morning, and the older man recognizes this as a calculated occurrence by Tim.

For the past couple of weeks, the usually chipper and quiet boy looked to be teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He had approached Bruce alone a couple of times seemingly with the intention to admit something, but always weaseled his way out at the last minute. The father was growing increasingly worried at this behavior. From the small details Bruce could gather from mostly Dick and Tam, he knew Tim had gone through hell and back last year to prove that he was still alive. Tim himself had never shared any information regarding his solo mission, which scares Bruce to no end. 

The two sit on uncomfortable metal chairs and breathe in the freshest air Gotham can provide. This morning is unusually warm for April, with birds chirping and squirrels chasing each other across the expansive lawn. Tim’s anxious bobbing of his knee drains any peace Bruce may have found in the moment. 

After an undefined amount of time, Tim is the first one to speak. “You must think I’m going crazy.” He states while watching a morning dove tend to her nest, “With how I’ve been acting these past couple weeks.” Bruce’s gaze falls on his son’s face, too pale, and his cheekbones too defined. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Bruce’s voice is uncharacteristically light, “But I am concerned.” Tim’s eyes widen at this statement, his fingers tightening their grip on the chair’s arms. 

“Oh.” 

Bruce sighs, “Tim, I-”

Suddenly, the teen rises to his feet, an indescribable look written on his sharp features. “Oh.” He repeats, sullen. “I understand.” He turns to face the doors, unable to lock eyes with his father. “Most of my stuff is at my old apartment anyway,” He rambles quickly, “I can be out of here by today I just-”

“Whoa, hold on!” Bruce rises to his feet as well, placing a tentative hand on Tim’s shoulder, half for comfort and half to hold him in place. “Why-”

“No, I understand.” Tim shrugs off his hand, trying hard to keep an indifferent expression. “My father felt the same way. I guess I’m used to it.”

Bruce’s face falls, not understanding. “Tim, look at me.”

The teen is unable to suppress a sniffle while trying to keep his tears at bay. Bruce places his hand back on Tim’s shoulder, gently guiding him back into the chair. The former Robin keeps his gaze locked toward the ground. Bruce kneels down in front of him.

“Tim, I’m concerned about you,” Tim picks his head back up again to protest, but is cut off by Bruce before he can start, “I’m concerned because you were alone for all that time while looking for me. No one knows all of what happened to you. And that makes me. . . afraid. Do you understand?”

Tim suddenly furrows his eyebrows, finally meeting Bruce’s eyes. He stares for a moment, forgetting to stop his tears. And then, he smiles like his father has never seen before. 

“Wait, really?”

Bruce tilts his head in confusion, “Yes, really. What did you think-”

And suddenly, Tim is laughing. Full out belly laughing. Laughing so hard he can barely breathe. Bruce watches in astonishment as Tim’s tears shift from sadness to joy. After a couple of moments, the teen can finally catch his breath and wipe his cheeks.

“Oh, oh my god I’m so. . . I’m so relieved. I thought you were kicking me out. I mean, I guess you still could but-”

“Hold on, what? Why would I kick you out?” Tim is taken aback by the sheer surprise at disgust in Bruce’s voice as he vocalizes the idea, like the very thought of it is repulsive. Suddenly, Tim is filled with the confidence he’s been lacking.

“I thought you were kicking me out because you knew I was bi. Like-” Tim places a hand on his heart, letting out a big sigh of relief, “I wasn’t this nervous even when I fought Ra’s!”

Bruce’s eyes grow wide.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop. Hold on, time out.” Bruce waves his hands frantically, causing Tim to take a sharp intake of breath.

“You fought Ra’s al Ghul? By yourself?”

Tim barked out a laugh at Bruce’s startled expression. “Hell yeah! And I kicked his ass!” Bruce did not move a muscle, and Tim wished he had his camera. This is the closest to fainting he’s even seen his father. 

“Well, sorta. I  _ did  _ get thrown out of a sky-scraper window-” Bruce wobbled back on his feet, using the arms of Tim’s chair to stable himself. “But Dick caught me!” Tim adds quickly.

Bruce takes a second to recover and compose himself before addressing Tim again.

“Three things.” Bruce states, trying hard not to waver his voice. “One. You are my son. I accept and love every part of you. I hope you can forgive me if I ever made it seem like I thought anything different than that.”

“Bruce-”

“Two. I’m so goddamn proud of you. You’ve been through so much and you’re so brave and kind hearted and I cannot  _ fathom _ how anyone could betray your trust and kick you out. I’m assuming your father. . .”

Tim bows his head.

“What an asshole.”

Tim scoffs in surprise, not used to Bruce cursing so casually.

“No, really, I mean it. You’re the best son I could have even asked for. Better than I deserve. And if he couldn’t see that, well, his loss.”

“His loss.” Tim softly repeats with the faintest smile.

“And three.” Bruce starts, “I’m going to kill Ra’s.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. But first I need to find a really tall building.”

“I think we own a couple of those.”

“He’s immortal anyway. It’ll be cathartic.”

“For you or for me?”

“Mostly me. Because you’re never going near him ever again.”

“Did you miss the part where I beat him?”

“I was too busy being hung up on the ‘he threw me out of a window’ part.”

The pair laugh easily under the soft morning sunlight. Tim is noticeably less tense.  
“So. . .” Bruce starts, leaning back to sit down on the patio floor.

Tim hums in response, his relaxed eyes scanning the trees surrounding the manor.

“Superboy, huh?”

Tim chokes on air as his cheeks grow bright red. Bruce laughs, confirming his suspicions. 

“Invite him for Sunday dinner. I’m sure your brothers and sister would love to give him  _ the talk _ .” 

“He’s not my boyfriend-” Tim mumbles, and suddenly his phone lights up with a barrage of text messages.

“Damn super-hearing.” Tim curses, moving to see what exactly Kon is sending him. 

Bruce laughs again, watching as his son’s eyes light up as he reads the messages. And suddenly, he cannot wait for Sunday dinner.


End file.
